White as Snow, Black as Night
by Demeter1
Summary: Christmas is a time for family and friends to enjoy their mutual company. For Dorothy, Christmas is only a time for loneliness.


**"White as Snow, Black as Night"**

**Demeter**

Warnings: Dorothy-centric.

Disclaimer: All rights and privileges to Shin Kidousenki Gundam Wing are trademarks and property of Sunrise, Bandai, Sotsu Agency, and associated parties. All the characters belong to them, and all stories, relationships, ideas are fiction. They are not related to the original plot. The story, the relationships and original characters within the fic are copyright of the author Demeter.

* * *

It was snowing again.

On Christmas Eve.

Dorothy swore softly as she saw the piles of fluffy snow falling to and fro. Her ice-blue orbs glittered, reflecting the light from the nearby lamps, before scanning for a taxi. Spotting an old-man smoking, leaning against the familiar hue of bright yellow, she hurried forward and asked brusquely if he was the driver.

He eyed her, before replying, "Aye. And where do you want me to take you?"

Dorothy opened her mouth to respond, when she saw, out of the corner of her eye, a mother struggling along, packages in her hands, two kids in tow, and an infant snuggled in a dirty carriage. The children were clothed in coats, but little else. There was a cheerful air to them, despite their ragged appearance. The mother had on a shabbily made, patched coat, looking as though it was ready to fall apart any moment. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and the cheekbones of her face stood out prominently.

Tilting her head slightly, she tuned in on their conversation.

"Momma, will Santa come tonight?"

"I don't know... sweetie. Santa may be too busy tonight to come to our house."

"But Joey from school said he came to EVERYONE'S houses!"

"I know that darling, but... see, Santa needs to go to those children who don't have as much. And we have a lot, right? You wouldn't want a little girl without toys on Christmas, when you have a lot already, right?"

"Oh, okay Momma."

The little girl turned from her mother, and started talking excitedly with her brother. Only Dorothy noticed the pained look on the mother's face, a haggard line shadowing her already gaunt face. She turned and saw the taxi. Giving it a wistful look, she seemed to give a gusty sigh. Seeing Dorothy, she raised a battered bag, before calling out weakly, "Merry Christmas."

"Excuse me, Miss. Do you want a ride or not?"

Dorothy turned, startled, back toward the taxi driver. He was finished with his cigarette, and was now tapping his foot impatiently. She hesitated, before she risked one more glance at the mother and children. Pursing her lips, she sighed, mentally cursing Relena for bringing values into her, before calling out to the mother, "Would you like a ride to where you live?"

The mother's mouth fell open in surprise. She stared at the tall blonde, before asking suspiciously, "What's the catch?"

"No catch. You have so many packages and with the snow coming down so hard, I imagine it would be quite a feat to return to where your going." She arched one perfectly formed eyebrow, waiting for a response.

The mother looked around, and seeing the snow falling steadily worse, she glanced down at her children. Shaking her head, she spoke softly, her face flushed red, "I'm sorry. I can't. I don't have the money for the cab to take me so far."

"Where are you going?"

"Retalliard Lane."

"I'm going in that general direction. I'll pay."

"Oh, I couldn't..."

Dorothy exhaled impatiently. She hated wishy-washy people. "Just get in. You don't want your kids to walk all that distance, do you?"

The woman hesitated a few more moments, before nodding and sloshing toward the waiting taxi. With hardly a glance, the old man tossed the bags into the trunk, slammed the hood, and jumped into the drivers seat. Warming the icy car up, he waited for the family to pile in.

Dorothy watched in amusement as the kids immediately started playing with the radio up front, listening to the old man tell them stories. The mother gave her a wan smile, a little color returning to her pale cheeks. "My feet and circulatory system thank you."

Dorothy just gave them a brief smile. She was uncomfortable dealing with regular people; she felt more at ease in environments where the other people hated her or detested her intensely. She felt jumpy at the mere image of someone thanking her. Giving the mother a strained smile, she asked, "What's your name?"

"Marissa Calloway. What's yours?"

"Dorothy."

"Just Dorothy?"

"Just Dorothy."

Marissa cocked her head slightly to the right, and gazed at the young woman. She had never seen such interesting eyebrows before. They defined the blonde's face, but lent it a threatening air. Biting her lip, she summoned courage to ask another question, when Dorothy broke in gently, "Don't worry about a thing. It'll be a while to Retalliard, with the snow. Get a little rest."

The other woman blinked, before nodding gratefully. Settling into the seat more comfortably, she closed her eyes, and almost immediately dropped into a deep slumber.

Dorothy watched her for a few more minutes, before turning back toward the front. Only to see the little girl, her arm protectively around her younger brother, look at her with curiosity. Smiling inwardly, she asked, "What's your name?"

As little girls do, she stared at Dorothy solemnly, before replying, "Lena."

"Lena?" Dorothy echoed, a bit surprised.

"Yea. Daddy named me after a famous politician. He said I would grow up successful with that name."

"Successful?" Dorothy repeated softly, her voice slightly bitter. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, Daddy said I would be rich, and I could give Momma everything she wanted, and have ice-cream everyday!"

"Being a 'Lena' is a lot more work than you think."

"Oh, I know. Daddy told me that before he was ki..." Lena stopped in the middle of the sentence, glancing cautiously at her mother, before continuing in a soft voice. "Before he was killed in the second war."

Dorothy did not respond to that, only sighing as she looked out the window, and stared at the falling snow. Turning back she inquired, "How did your Mama take it?"

Lena was silent, her little cherubic face troubled. Almost whispering, she said, "Well, Momma's not well. And Grandpa won't speak to Momma. He's a mean old man. Momma's always working, and she don't have as much time to play with us." Seeing Dorothy's face, she went on quickly, "But I'm a big girl! I can do whatever Momma needs me to do! I don't need to play! Playing is for kids!" She said that almost scornfully, as if playing was a pastime to be ridiculed.

"Don't you get tired?"

"Sometimes. But Momma always says I'm the only one she can depend on. I don't know what that means exactly, but it's an important job!" She puffed her chest out proudly. "I'm efficient! Momma told me that was a good thing!"

Dorothy was now staring at the little girl in fascination. "Well. I'm very sure your Momma depends on you very much. Why don't you get a little rest. I'll call you when we get there."

"Okay." She snuggled into her seat, when she suddenly popped up again, "Oh and I need to say something!" Lena paused, and then said, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire!"

Dorothy blinked.

"Teacher said that would bring good luck on Christmas! I've been saying it every day for a month now! I hope Santa brings what I asked him!"

"What did you ask him to bring?"

"It's a secret."

"I can keep secrets."

Lena chewed on her lip, suddenly seeming the seven years that she was supposed to be, instead of the seventeen year old she was expected to be. "Well. You gotta promise you won't tell ANYONE."

"I promise."

"Cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye?"

Dorothy gave a queer smile at the childhood rhyme before repeating softly, "Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

"Okay then. I asked Santa to bring my Momma a new husband. And some new clothing. And to have the car fixed, because she's always crying over the car, and I don't know why, and if she gets a new one, then she won't have to cry anymore."

"How about for yourself?"

Lena gave her a confused look. "Me? I don't need anything."

"What do you want?"

The little girl immediately gave her a severe glance. "I mustn't want anything. I'm supposed to be responsible. Momma says I shouldn't ask for anything other than food and warm clothing. That's all I need." As matter-of-factly as she said that, Dorothy could not help but pluck out a wistful note from her voice.

Brushing a palm over one eyebrow absently, she asked, "What do you wish for than?"

"... You can't say anything to Momma."

"I won't."

"I wan... I mean, I wish for a doll." She rushed quickly, "But, I don't need any of it. I just kinda wish for it, 'cause Missy from my class has one, and it's really pretty and soft."

"Oh?"

"Yeah!"

"Maybe Santa will bring you one of those."

Lena immediately perked up. "Maybe he will!" Suddenly yawning, she murmured "sorry" sleepily, cuddled up to her brother for warmth before falling fast asleep.

Breathing out, Dorothy's eyes softened at the image of the two children sleeping peacefully. Her face turning to the mother, the edges hardened slightly, before staring out the window once more. And memory lane came running up after her..

_"Dorothy!"_

_The little girl cowered in the closet for fear. She prayed to all the gods that were true, to keep her mother from finding her. Shivering, she backed into the corner more, and started repeating a mantra. "Dear God. Please bring Daddy back today. Please bring Daddy back today. Please bring Daddy back today. Please bring Daddy back today."_

_"You little bitch!"_

_Dorothy gave a muffled shriek, as her mother suddenly yanked open the door, and grabbed her by the head. Tears rushed to her eyes and she pleaded, begged to be let off. She started pummeling, in hopes her mother would let her go._

_"Get down there, you worthless bitch! God, if you weren't born, I would have left that bastard years ago!" She jerked Dorothy up ruthlessly, before holding the little girl to her face. "You're waste! You're garbage! If you only weren't born!" Pushing her into study, she grabbed the wooden switch from the rack, and started lashing out, whipping the tender skin._

_"Mommy! Please! Stop it! Mommy! Mommy!" Her hoarse screams echoed through the room, and the servants hovered in the hallway, each twisting their hands with anxiety. Dorothy balled herself up, and covered her face, to keep the whip marks from landing there. _

_"Mrs. Catalonia!" A servant had finally stepped in, quaking in her shoes. _

_"What is it? Didn't I tell you not to interrupt me!" She turned to the frightened servant, and glared at her, hate making her nostrils flare. "You're fired! Get out of here!"_

_The servant beat a hasty retreat, before calling out fearfully, "Duke Dermail is on line three!"_

_Dorothy felt the whip fall to the ground. She heard her mother hurry from the room. But she stayed in the same position, filled with too much pain to even move. Before long, she heard her mother bark that she was leaving before the sound of a slamming door echoed. _

_She nearly sobbed in relief as she felt many people bustle in. A pair of strong arms lifted her from the ground, and she saw through her hazy vision, the servants scurrying this way and that, grabbing Band-Aids, medicine, and food. Dorothy found herself tucked into bed, several maids singing in quivering voices. Lain, her favorite, brought in cold cloths and started bandaging the cuts and lashes, tears threatening to fall from her eyes._

_Ice-cream was brought in and someone turned on the TV, before popping in her favorite movie. Soon, she was drowsy, her body only stinging a little, while everyone watched her anxiously._

_Dorothy cracked one ice-blue eye open, and whispered softly, in her childish voice, "Thank you,"_

_Everyone breathed in relief, and most left to continue the days work. _

_It would happen again. If not the next day, soon. Now, this seemed almost routine. _

_Dorothy felt her insides quake, before she whispered to the setting dusk. "Please God. Make this the day Daddy returns."_

_Only he didn't._

_Because, after all, he had too much work to do._

Dorothy jerked awake. Staring outside, she found that the snow had stopped finally.Cursing softly, one shaking hand ran over her hair. Squeezing her eyes shut, she breathed in deeply. Swallowing, she turned back to the family. They were still fast asleep, curled into the warmth of the radiators. Shifting closer to the driver, she asked in a low voice, "How much further?"

"About five more minutes. Took a hell longer than I thought; the snow's a bitch tonight!"

Dorothy ignored his language, turning back to the mother. Regretfully, she shook the tired woman's shoulder. She stirred, before cracking one eye open sleepily. Seeing Dorothy, she struggled up in her seat, the baby obstructing her, before Dorothy's gently hand pushed her down. "You needn't get up just yet. We'll be there in a few moments."

Marissa's face was a mask of thanks. She held onto Dorothy's hands, and looked into her ice-blue eyes with an intensity. "Thank you so much. I wouldn't have known what to do if you hadn't come from heaven to help us, like an angel!"

Dorothy went rigid with shock. Pulling her hand away quickly, she muttered, "I'm no angel."

Lena, who had awakened, echoed, "That's right Mommy! She's Santa's wife!"

"Lena!" The rebuke was obvious, and Lena immediately shrunk back into her seat.

Marissa said apologetically, "Sometimes Lena's that way. I'm trying to discipline her into stopping, but it hasn't been working very well."

Dorothy responded, her voice mild, "Really? I think Lena's a fine child. Under the proper tutelage, I think her future holds many bright possibilities. How far is she in her education?"

Marissa flushed, her gaunt face growing grim. "Only.... to elementary school. She hasn't had time to go any higher."

With one arched eyebrow, Dorothy asked her, " Oh? Education is very important. I would recommend the Saint Masterfield. It's teachers are brilliant, and Relena Peacecraft went there herself."

A hungry look came into Marissa's eyes. Her voice steady, she licked her dry lips before choking out, "How much?"

There was a silence.

Dorothy felt like hitting herself on the head.

_Of course! Saint Masterfield costs a fortune to go to! This woman probably doesn't even know where her next meal is!_

"Quite a bit."

Her head drooping, Marissa gave a bitter bark of laughter. "Of course. Any school where a princess goes to probably costs more in a day than my I earn in a year. There's never going to be any way my little girl can go to a school like that."

Dorothy was silent, her eyes blank.

Thinking she had offended her, Marissa hastily added in, "But Ms. Peacecraft is one of the sweetest people I know! Of course she deserves the best!"

"Retalliard Lane!" The driver croaked, his voice hoarse with disuse.

Marissa started, before scrambling with the baby and her packages. Opening the door to the frigid air, she shivered slightly, before squaring her thin shoulders and grabbing her bags. Turning back to Dorothy, she paused, looking at her intently, before whispering. "Thank you very much. I don't know how I could have made it home without you! You truly are an angel."

Dorothy merely smiled, her eyes taking in the street number, house address, and the outside condition of the dwelling. A slight hardness edged at her mouth, and she nodded.

Marissa licked her lips, and then murmured softly, "Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. I hope these will all bless you."

The taxi roared off, leaving the family on the side of the road, forlorn-looking in the falling snow.

"Where next, Ma'am?"

"Peacecraft Mansion."

"We're here!"

"My thanks to you. How much?"

"On the house! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!" The driver tipped his hat and drove off humming before Dorothy could stop him. Her purse half-open, she stared after the disappearing car, before smiling wryly.

Entering, she found Pargan ready to take off her coat. Shaking off the loose ice, she inquired, "Where is Relena and the others?"

"In the Grand Ball Room, Miss Dorothy."

Dorothy walked briskly toward the room, encountering several members of Relena's staff, who bowed to her before hurrying alone to get their duties done so that they could go home. Pushing the door open, she blinked to see everyone sitting on cushy chairs, surrounded by tables of food, each seemingly half-devoured.

Relena looked up and beamed at the new arrival. "Dorothy!" Launching herself from Heero's arms, she gave the normally reticent girl a strong hug. Dorothy stood stiffly, before performing an elegant bow to everyone present, and setting herself into the only empty chair. She nodded to the chorus of greetings.

"What have you been doing all afternoon, Dorothy?" Relena asked, her voice teasing. "You don't have some secret paramour we know nothing about, do you?"

Dorothy raised an eyebrow, before replying, "Non, I just saw some very interesting things."

Now, everyone's attention was focused on her. "Yeah man? What kinda things?"

"Just things."

"As vocal as ever, onna... OW! Woman, what are you doing?!"

"Wufei, darling. You promised me you wouldn't call anyone "onna" for the night."

"Kisama!"

"You said you wouldn't say that either."

"KI.. On.. Be quiet Maxwell!"

Duo had fallen off the chair in laughter, his hair slightly mussed from the scalp-massage that Hilde had given him. He hiccuped once, before climbing back onto the couch with Hilde. Curling up, he kept muttering slurred words, before dropping into a light doze.

Hilde shook her head, before giving her full attention to Dorothy. "What do you mean by things? You gotta be more specific."

Dorothy only gave her the enigmatic smile that irritated everyone. She turned her attention to Quatre, her feral grin growing wider. Trowa gazed steadily back at her, a silent warning in his eyes. She sneered slightly, before asking silkily, "My dear Quatre Raberba Winner. How many connections to Saint Masterfields do you have?"

His baby-blue eyes blinked at her. "Excuse me?"

"Can you or can you not get me an admission application?"

"Well, yes, I can.... But you're too old to go to school!"

Dorothy rolled her eyes. For all his wealth, Quatre at times seemed to have the IQ of an infant. She continued patiently. "I know that. I need the form for one of my.... friend's.... daughter. She's very bright, and I want her to get a solid foundation in school before she's twelve."

"Saint Masterfield's expensive. Can she afford it?" Quatre asked, his eyes tinged with red from the alcohol he had drunk.

"Of course she can."

"Oh.. um.. well.. I can give you the form after Christmas."

"Thank you very much dear Quatre Raberba Winner! You must allow me to pay you back with a dueling match!"

Quatre gave her an alarmed look before adding hastily it was his pleasure, and downing the rest of his drink in a hurried gulp.

_Quatre dear is so naive sometimes._

"I must be off then! Much for me to do and see before Christmas Eve is over." Dorothy stood up, her skirt swishing with force. Turning on her heel, she walked toward the door, her hand waving over her head.

Leaving, she shut the door closed with a bang, before leaning on the door, her back cold against the metal. Breathing in shakily, she brushed the hair from her eyes, before walking briskly toward the door, into the dark, cold night, once again thinking dismally that she was alone on Christmas. She muttered to herself, "I'll be home for Christmas."

As it was every year.

* * *

Marissa stared hard at the checkbook, willing the numbers to change before her eyes. Her eyes watered, and she blinked rapidly to get rid of the blurriness. Biting her lip, she hoped for a miracle. However, the numbers were the same, as they were an hour ago.

Letting her head fall, she swallowed.

_We're still too short. Lena still can't go to school. _

_How am I going to get enough?_

_Even the cheapest ones are beyond my capabilities. _

_Damn those politicians! _

_Damn them for pretending to help us!_

"Mommy?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Aren't you going to sleep soon?"

"Not now. I still have things to do."

"Oh."

A loud ring interrupted them, and Marissa looked up in dread. Clutching her money bag to her, she opened the door to the inevitable. No doubt the landlord was here hunting for her long-past due payments. Sucking in a desperate breath, she flung the door open.

Only to see a suit-clad man.

He gave her a disarming smile.

"You are Marissa Calloway, I assume?"

"Y.. yes."

"Very good. Then this is for you. And this package is specifically for your daughter, Lena."

He bowed, before handing over a dull-brown package and a box, kissing her thin and papery-dry hand. Blushing, she performed an awkward curtsy, before closing the door.

Staring between the two, she clucked at her tongue, before opening that package first. Her breath caught in her throat, as she peered through the jumble of cotton. Lying amid the stark white, was a perfect doll, looking exactly like her daughter. The glass eyes were a brilliant brown, and the hair was soft to the touch. A dress made of pure silk seemed to catch the drifting sunlight's last glimmer, and breathed in new life to the room.

Marissa gave a strangled gurgle.

Lena turned to her mother, away from her dish-washing, before asking, "Mama? Is there something wrong."

Marissa picked the doll up with fingers shaking in shock. She turned slowly to her oldest daughter, and whispered, "Look, Santa brought you a gift."

A dish clattered to the sink, and Lena stood there, her chocolate eyes immeasurably wide. Stepping off the stool, she wavered uncertainly toward the doll. Visibly swallowing, she took the doll with her childish arms and just looked at it.

Smoothing her fingers over the cherubic face, touching the tiny fingers, rubbing the soft silk between her work-roughened hands, she whispered, "My doll."

Marissa smiled at her daughter, before looking at the other gift. She turned the package over in her hands, staring at the elegant writing. The writing was obviously of high-breeding, as she noted the tightly restrained loops and the sharply slanted letters. Pressing her lips together, she ripped the top open.

A thick sheaf of papers slipped into her trembling fingers. Her hands shook so much, she could barely read it. Strangling her breath, she forced herself to focus.

_We are pleased to inform you that Lady Lena Calloway has been accepted to Saint Masterfields with the highest honors. She has received a full scholarship and will be..._

She read no further, as she stood in shock, the papers scattering to the four winds. Pressing her hands to her mouth, she willed herself not to burst into tears. Falling to the floor, she kissed it, before whispering, "Thank you, where ever you are, angel."

Dorothy yawned.

Out of a sudden wistful pang, she started singing softly to herself, as she stared out the high window of her bedroom.

"Silent Night

Holy Night

All is calm

All is right."

Before she could get any further, she was interrupted by a soft knock.

"Miss Dorothy? There's someone here to see you."

Irritation flared up in her. "Tell them it's Christmas."

"I did, but the person said that because it was Christmas, Miss Dorothy must come down. They're in the parlor."

Sighing, she gathered her robe around herself. Stalking toward the parlor, she summoned up the energy in her for a bitter tongue-lashing.

Only to be showered in confetti when she entered.

Blinking, she saw the entire group of Gundam pilots and families in the room, grinning wildly. Or in Heero, Trowa, Zechs, and Wufei's cases, cracking tiny smiles.

Dorothy stood, rooted to the spot.

"Ms. Dorothy. Next time, please tell us what you're doing. You play the part of Scrooge quite well." Quatre smiled from his place on the couch and his blue eyes sparkled at her shock.

She gave Quatre a stunned glare. "What are you talking about?"

Heero smirked slightly, before turning on the TV.

"..And now we're tuning into an amazing Christmas miracle. Ladies and Gentlemen, never have I seen such a happy little girl in my life. This child was to awake on Christmas with nothing more than a little more food, and maybe another shirt bought from a second-hand store. But because of some "Angel" as they say, not only did little Lena get the new doll she wanted, she has received a fully-paid tuition to Saint Masterfields until she graduates! Whoever this mysterious benefactor is, this person has made this once-poor family, a happy Christmas indeed!"

Dorothy sucked in a breath.

_No one was supposed to know!_

She summoned indifference. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Relena giggled before pointing back at the screen.

"Little Lena, do you have something to say to your benefactor?"

"YES! Oh Please!" Lena turned her wide tooth-gapped smile to the screen, and more than one "Aww!" rose from the group. She was hugging the doll, holding it as if it was made of glass. "Thank you! Her name is Dorothy! And she's Santa Clause's wife! Mommy says she's an angel from heaven, given to us from God to help us in our suffering! And I wanna say something to the angel!" Her face turned more solemn. Her eyes shimmered in the light, and she struggled to speak without crying. "You made Mommy cry, but this time, Mommy cried because she was happy. I can go to school now, and when I grow all big, I'm going to make money for Mommy so she won't have to work anymore! Thank you!"

Dorothy stared at the screen. Unbidden tears were welling up in her ice-blue orbs.

Swallowing, she glanced around the room, uncertainly. She saw no condemnation, only love and respect. Biting her lip, she said briskly, "Well, whoever this Dorothy person is, she has nothing to do with me."

Everyone winked at her, before nodding solemnly.

Duo than jumped onto her twenty-three thousand dollar glass table, and shouted, "All right! Then let's PARTY!"

They did party, far into the beautiful night.

And for the first time, Dorothy did not feel lonely during Christmas.

_I'm dreaming of a White Christmas. _

**Fin**


End file.
